Memento Mori
by greenk
Summary: Remember, you will die. "Saturday. Everything ends on a Saturday. He didn't think it would happen again like this. At least not so soon." AU after Undead Again.
1. Chapter 1

Hello Castle fandom. I'm quite pleased and also anxious to present you with this story; I'm pleased because I've successfully written another multi-chapter fanfic (AND IT'S DONE. Mostly. You know what that means? It means no more month-long waits for updates, that's what!) and anxious because this story is a bit of an experiment for me. I can tell you now that I've never written anything quite like it. But bear with me. I have faith that you all will understand what's going on soon enough. It's not really confusing at all. I believe in you! :)

I started writing this story back in September. Clearly, I got sidetracked. But if Headhunters decided to go in another direction last night, that's why it doesn't follow the show's continuity.**  
**

As I mentioned, thankfully, I've forced myself to write nearly the entire thing before posting. That means quick updates and no infinite cliff hangers. Normally, if I write anything multi-chaptered, it automatically means failure to complete. But no more! It was difficult to persuade myself to do, since I'm a sucker for instant feedback, but I had a wonderful time writing.

All that being said, I do hope you enjoy this story. Though, maybe enjoy isn't the right word...

**Disclaimer:** _Silly_.

* * *

Because death is just so full and man so small  
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before

-Mumford & Sons, _After the Storm_

* * *

**Saturday, April 28, 2012**

Saturday. Everything ends on a Saturday.

He didn't think it would happen again like it this. At least not so soon. _God, why so soon?_ Is she not allowed to have a moment's happiness to herself before it all inevitably gets shot to hell? It doesn't matter so much at the moment though - happiness. Not when she's lying on the ground again, and he's leaning over her in a panic, and his hands are reaching to press down where the bullet pierced through her jacket. _Oh God, not again._

"Kate. Please, Kate, just breathe. Breathe for me, Kate."

The first time she was shot like this, in front of him, she was in shock. And he was too. Still is. But now she seems calm, almost. Serene. She brushes his hands back from the hole in her side with gentle fingers.

"_Shhh…Castle_. It's going to be okay."

He can barely believe it. _She's_ trying to reassure _him_. Her lips, impossibly red and gasping for air, moving slowly with obvious effort, trying to _reassure_ _him_. He needs to stop thinking, to start acting. But she isn't letting him. Every time he attempts to apply pressure to her abdomen, her hands are there to move his away. The hot tears of fear and frustration prick the back of his eyes, seep out slow and searing.

"Kate, an ambulance is on the way." It isn't just a soothing white lie. He can hear the sirens in the distance, getting closer by the second. "But I need you to let me help you. Please, baby, let me help you."

He scans her leather clad front again. He can't let her bleed out in this alley. _Just like her mother_. He won't.

Blood. Before, it was everywhere; splattered on her gloves and staining the grass a sickening color. Red on green, opposites on the color wheel, the colors of Christmas lights and holiday wrapping paper. Red and green; no longer will he be reminded of sleigh bells and snow glistening, but instead, he'll picture that fateful moment as her life drained out from her and into the ground.

Now, the lighting is dim in the alleyway. It's night, and the streetlamps do little to fight against the creeping black. This time, he can't see the crimson liquid spreading out on the pavement, soaking into her clothing; he can't feel it, sticky against his palms and seeping under his fingernails. But that doesn't mean it isn't there.

He's vaguely aware of Esposito barking orders into his cell while kneeling down to assess his boss as Ryan stands farther away over the body of the shooter. A bullet between the eyes. His gun shakes as he holsters it.

Castle turns his eyes back to his partner who now has hers closed and reaches down to feel the stuttering thrum of blood gushing through her radial artery. He's written the scene enough times to know the terms, though irrelevant at this point. All that matters now is that it's _there _and working. _Still pulsing, still beating, still living. _All good things. The silver lining.

"Nice shot," he offers to the Irish detective in a wavering tone, unable to look up, but he imagines his friend's nodding head in response, shoulders loosening with a bit of relief. Killing, even justifiably, can never be easy. No experience needed as a cop or as a mystery writer to fathom that.

He thanks every deity he can think of when the ambulance screeches around the corner. The EMTs rush out as fast as lightning. Before he knows it, the Latino detective is yanking him back from his partner who's being loaded into the bus. She can't…he needs…

"I want to go with her."

Esposito looks at him with sorry eyes. "It's full, bro. No room. Hospital was going to send out another ambulance, but it would have taken longer. This one just picked up a guy in a five-car pileup."

Ryan's yanking at his bicep and tugging him towards the unmarked, and Castle dazedly follows, tripping over his own incomprehension. Before he can think coherently, he's being seated in a poorly cushioned chair in a terribly lit waiting area and is trying to breathe as though breathing would matter a bit without her.

* * *

His mother is sitting at his right side and his daughter is drooping on his left. It feels so painfully reminiscent; the worst kind of déjà vu that isn't really déjà vu at all. He hasn't seen her for over five hours, and the anxiety of it all makes his hands shake. The uneasiness makes his fingers ache. They ache for the keys of his laptop, for the cool metal of a fountain pen and the crisp smoothness of a new notepad, but mostly for her. Always for her.

He was almost surprised with the speed in which his mother and Alexis made it to the hospital, but he shouldn't have been. Kate's a part of their family now. She's been for a while now. They always knew she was for keeps. _Unless…_

Castle's attention is attracted by the movement in his peripheral. Jim Beckett is walking toward the doctor's beckoning hand. He wants to follow him, to pump the doctor for every drop of information he has, but his brain refuses to send the signals to his legs for them to move. _They'll tell you what's going on. They'll tell you when they know. _

And then, Jim's turning around, looking him straight in the eye with some strange mixture of sorrow and guilt and _pity_. And suddenly, the man's brushing past the doctor and all but running down another corridor.

And then Rick knows.

He finds himself standing without recollection of the action and launching himself towards the scrub-clothed man. He doesn't have to say anything. The doctor gives him a look identical to Jim's.

"Mr. Castle," the man starts and the world skids to a halt. _No_. "I'm very sorry to have to inform you, we were unable to revive Ms. Beckett. She passed away on the table just now. We did everything we could."

_We did everything we could_. But they didn't. They couldn't. If they would have, she wouldn't be…she can't be. She's a warrior, a rock, an unstoppable force of nature. Kate Beckett is a phenomenon. His whole body goes numb, and he rocks forward until the surgeon put out a steadying hand, applying gentle pressure to his left shoulder.

"Her father?" he manages to choke out. _Her father. Jim. Her poor dad. Sober for how many years? First his wife and now his daughter. Kate would want him to…_

_Kate._

His head is stuffed with cotton, and his ears are covered with an imaginary layer of film. He sees the man's lips moving, but can't make sense of the words.

"Ms. Beckett's will gives her father power of attorney. As her proxy-"

"I know what her will says," he hears himself say indignantly, "I'm _in _her will." _What is he responding to? How can his mouth work separately from his brain? _"I want to…where is she?"

"Mr. Beckett was adamantly against any visitors upon his daughter's passing."

_He _has _to get in there. He has to see for himself. He saved her ten times before. _But he's an _idiot. Even Richard Castle can't stop…_

_Gone. _He writes about it. He makes a living because of it. But he can't think the word, can't usher in the darkness, scythes blazing. _She can't be. She _can't _be. _Every fiber of his being rebels against the very thought. _No._

He isn't the only one standing now. Everything is blurred together; Ryan's reddening puppy dog eyes and Esposito's arms sheltering Lanie's painful sobs. His mother and Alexis. He reaches a hand up to touch his face. _Is he crying?_ His fingers pull back, dampened by salty tears and he stares at them as if they're foreign objects. As if he's been torn apart from his body, outside looking in. He feels something ripping from deep within, and it takes him a moment to recognize the source. It's his heart. His heart torn in two.

_Kate._

* * *

It might be the end for now, but this story has barely begun.

Stay tuned.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to all who reviewed and added this story to their alerts. :) As promised, here's installment two, "speedy quick." (Hey, twice a week is good progress for me.)

**Disclaimer: **Let's not get crazy.

* * *

I'll endure the night  
For the promise of light

-Local Natives, _Sun Hands_

* * *

**Thursday, April 26, 2012**

He shows up the next day because he misses her, and he doesn't like fighting with her; he can't stand it. She doesn't look up when he approaches, doesn't flinch when he sets down a cup of coffee and clears his throat. Stubborn. That's never going to change.

"Kate," he addresses her meekly with hopes that, in playing the card of innocence, she'll give him a chance. But no. Nothing.

The force is strong with this one.

"I'm sorry." He _is_ sorry. "But you were wrong." She _was_ wrong. He's not going to admit defeat just because it's easier. And just as he expected with that statement, he has her full attention. But, unlike he anticipated, her eyes swell not with rage, but with remorse.

"I'm sorry too." She seems uncertain, fiddles with the mouse of her computer. He doesn't blame her; she can't be used to apologizing to him. To anybody, really, but most of all to him. It's always the other way around. "I put you in a position that I shouldn't have, and I'm not proud of it."

If she's trying to garner more guilt from him with this turnabout, it's certainly working. "No, Kate. I understand. Really. There's no need for you to say sorry for anything."

In an instant, she grabs at his forearm, squeezes it fervently. "Yes. There is. Everything's always so one-sided between us. I push you, and maybe you push me, but then you always come back ready to ask for forgiveness. I don't want to make you feel like you're the screw up here, Castle. I don't want you to feel like you aren't good enough for me. So I'm going to apologize, and we're going to work through things together, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. That's sounds…good. Really good. So you'll stop?"

She frowns at him, bites her lip. "Can't we just agree to disagree?"

"I really don't see how we can, Kate." He wishes they could. He wishes that could solve everything. But this is too big. He won't back down, won't settle for less. "Why don't we compromise instead? We can find a solution that works for both of us."

"_Castle_," his partner groans, gripping his skin with her talons.

"Geez, woman. Cut your nails, cut your nails!"

She rolls her eyes, but releases his limb from her grasp. "This isn't just something that can be settled with a compromise. There is no _solution_. It's one way or the other."

"I'm gonna find ya?"

Kate lets out a frustrated little laugh. "That's _one way or_ _another_, wise guy."

"I know," he sighs. Resorting to humor in unfavorable situations is just so second nature. "I thought you'd be angrier. You didn't answer my calls."

"I was upset, Castle. But I wasn't that angry. I couldn't be. I was just…" She seems to be considering her words. "I was busy. I went to see someone last night."

Jealously. It floods over him in waves. _Let's not jump to conclusions, now._ No. Instead, "Come over tonight? The team did a good job cleaning things up. Come have dinner with my family. We'll talk more after that."

One beat. Two. Finally, "Okay, Rick. We'll talk after dinner."

All right. Well. That actually went better than he'd expected. He'll take what he can get. For the time being. "So what are you looking at right now?"

* * *

He throws his keys on the end table and motions her inside.

"Go ahead into the office, and lock your gun in the safe. It's still a little messy back there, but you won't have to worry about disturbing anything. It's relatively contained."

"Don't you have to unlock the safe first?"

Silly. "Don't play ignorant, Kate. You're a detective. I know you know the combination."

She sticks her tongue out at him - petulance never looked so good - but doesn't deny it, strutting away with her weapon and badge in hand.

His mother and Alexis are bustling around the stove, too engaged in their conversation to take note of their dinner guest slipping into his office. _Ooh_, something smells good.

"What's going on in here?"

"Ah, just in time. Richard, be a darling and take the chicken parmesan out of the oven, would you? Alexis and I are just finishing up the salad."

He sighs in agreement and pulls out a checkered pair of mitts from the drawer. The wave of heat emanating from the oven hits him like a brick wall, but he reaches in, removing the large Pyrex tray and setting it on the stovetop.

"Need help with anything? Setting the table?" He turns around, and Kate's paused in front of the cabinet, door open, waiting for instruction.

"Of course, of course," it's his mother who answers, welcoming her, "That would be marvelous. You probably know where everything is?"

His partner nods gratefully, smiling. And soon, they're all seated together, eating in companionable silence. Kate polishes off her plate with a hum of appreciation.

"So who made the parmesan?"

Alexis beams. "I did. You like?"

"It's delicious, Alexis. I can never get the breading to stick when I make it. Yes, Castle." She glares at him when he nudges at her elbow. "I _do _cook on occasion."

After that, Kate and his daughter launch into a lively discussion about food and preparation methods. He has to wonder if it's wrong to feel so happy when everything is crashing down around him. Around her. Them.

"I was always more of a baker myself. My…my mother was the sous chef in our house when I was growing up." _Oh, Kate_. He slides his palm over her leg, under the table and hopes it comes off as a comforting gesture. "She was good at everything, really. Taught me everything I know. She used to tease that my father only married her for her cooking." That elicits a chuckle from everyone at the table. He's relieved that she's doing so well.

"So you can bake? Like, cookies?"

She snorts at him, bumping his shoulder with hers. "Amongst other things, yes."

"You've been holding out on me," he murmurs. "We'll have to fix that. Soon. I demand chocolate chip."

"You'll take what I give you."

"Yeah." He grins, can't help himself. "I will."

She checks her phone, scrolling through messages, then pauses in concern. Her face is pale, eyes wide.

"What's the matter?"

"Huh?" she speaks, pocketing her phone. "Nothing. It's just late. I-I have to go." Her chair squeaks against the wood floor as it slides backwards. "Thank you so much for dinner." She bustles into his office to grab her things from the safe, most likely, and he trails after her in confusion. It's only 8:30. Not so late. She doesn't have to leave just yet.

"Kate, where are you going? We haven't talked yet."

"Oh, right." She bites her lip. "Sorry. We'll talk later. There's somewhere I have to be."

Oh. She has to be somewhere. He frowns. "With the same person you saw last night?"

"Don't worry about it, Castle. I'll see you at the precinct tomorrow."

"Beckett," he pleads, snatching her sleeve between his fingertips. "We agreed. No more secrets. You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

Her eyes dart between him and the door. He can see the words flashing across them. Run, escape, abort, abort. "Sure," she hedges, moving away from him. "Tomorrow. We'll talk tomorrow. I promise."

He hopes for both their sakes that she's not lying.

* * *

Thanks stopping by. Let me know what you thought. :) Another chapter is coming soon.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm not exactly sure if I'm...happy? with this chapter. I've worked and reworked it so many times. More times than I can count. But read on. It's a longer one. Let me know what _you_ think. :)

* * *

It's the calm before the storm  
It's there then it's gone

-Our Lady Peace, _Angels/Losing/Sleep_

* * *

**Monday, April 23, 2012**

The second time Kate wakes up, he's gone. It's morning now. The light is blinding. Disorientated as she is, swimming in luxurious sheets on a foreign bed in an unfamiliar room, she allows herself a moment of panic.

Ah. Right.

She's in Castle's bedroom. O_kay. _

That's the _where_ and then comes the _why_. She feels her cheeks turn hot in remembrance, but she doesn't have a long time to dwell on the memories before she's interrupted from her thoughts by the clanging sound of pots and pans resonating from outside the door. Always the detective, she braces herself for the cold rush of morning air before rolling out of the comforter cocoon.

God, it's cold. _Oh wait_, she looks down. Naked. _Of course_. She can't help but roll her eyes at herself. Now, where did clothes end up? Time to rewind, take it from the beginning. _Huh_.

She distinctly remembers a jacket coming off by the door, probably hanging in his coat closet now. That won't do her any good. Then there was the couch. She'd loosened his tie, thrown it over her shoulder in abandon. He'd lifted her...crap. Her shirt's outside. _Damn it._ Well, she'll have to deal. _No biggie_. It's a good thing that Alexis and Martha are out of town for the extended weekend; otherwise, that might have made for an awkward situation. Alexis had a few in-service days, and the two leapt at the opportunity for a girls' getaway complete with facials and foot massages. Rather, Martha had dragged Alexis kicking and screaming to the spa, according to her partner..

Now, pants. Right. Upon scouring the room, she finds that her slacks have gone MIA sometime during the night, but underwear is better than nothing, and she finds them hanging precariously off his bedframe. _Well, that's a little embarrassing._ But it shouldn't be. Modesty had never really been an issue with her before. But it's different this time. This is _Castle. _Being with someone she's cared so deeply about for so long is uncharted territory for her, but she's anxious to explore.

His light blue button down is accounted for, and she slips it on, buttoning the loose fabric, letting it fall lightly against her mid-thigh. She rolls up the sleeves a little and ventures over to his mirror, assesses the situation. Overall, it's a nice fit; however, her _hair_ has a little to be desired. It's ruffled from sleep and _well_. The rosy blush over her collar bones, staining her cheeks is back with a vengeance. _C'mon, Detective_, she chides herself. _Don't be ridiculous. _

She creeps out the door, feet padding the cool floor on her way to the kitchen. At least, she assumes he's in the kitchen, judging from the glorious smell of _food_ assaulting her senses. Her stomach all but roars in anticipation. She's tasted his cooking before and he's _good_, that being an understatement. She peeks around the corner and then sighs in adoration. _Sickening_. She's already so far gone, but can't find the resolve to care.

He's clad in a snug, russet t-shirt and plaid, drawstring pajama pants that swipe the floor as he bustles through the kitchen, checking various pots and skillets on the stove and reaching for ingredients in tall cabinets. It takes him at least a full minute to notice her perched by his island, and he soaks in her appearance with a wide grin.

She crosses the length of the kitchen to peer at the simmering food before turning all her attention to his captivation.

"Good morning."

He bends his head down to give her a gentle kiss that sends prickling shivers down her spine. "Good doesn't even begin to cover it."

He waggles his eyebrows in pure Castle fashion, and she prods at his chest playfully before being hoisted up onto the counter. Once getting over her surprise at his swift movements, she raises a challenging brow of her own. "Just wanted you to have a decent view," he shrugs in explanation, gesturing to the array of dishes lining the marble countertop.

"And what exactly am I viewing?" She feels that lovesick smile break loose on her face too, but takes it all in stride. She's just so _happy. _It's a kind of happy that she hasn't felt in a long time. _You deserve to be happy_, his voice echoes through her.

"Well," he starts with enthusiasm. "To your left we have Richard Castle's signature home fries. Peppers, onions, potatoes, the works." He gives them a little stir with a spatula before continuing. "And then we have your standard scrambled eggs. Don't worry," he says off her wary look, "there aren't any graham crackers or marshmallows, just a little cheese. I _knew_ Alexis told you about the S'morlette."

She chuckles a little in admittance. "Better watch your back, _Rick_." The name rolls off her tongue, and she watched as he swallows a little involuntarily. "Soon, she'll be taking my side."

"I don't doubt it. I'm sure you'll be ganging up on me before long." She tries to look innocent, and he kisses the expression off her face. Easy, reflexive, like they've been doing this for years.

"Bacon's on a tray in the oven. Fresh strawberries are in a bowl over there." He gesticulates to the dining table where two plates are set along with forks and tall glasses of orange juice. The green bowl sits in the center of the table next to a wicker napkin holder. It's a pretty picture. Green and red. Opposites, if she remembers anything from the college art classes she took. Okay, well, modeled for.

"And this," he says, holding a mixing bowl. _When did he pick that up? _"…is going to be pancakes. Since you never got a chance to have any, you know, before." He's referencing the time he stayed over at her house during the Dunn case, and she remembers it well. _Oh, how far we've come._

"Don't think you overdid it a bit?"

"Of course not," he laughs softly. "We both know how much _you _eat."

It's funny because they do both know how much she eats. And typically, it isn't much of anything at all. But that's what he's here for, and irritating as he can be, she's glad to have him there to remind her of her need for daily nourishment. _In more ways than one. _Oh God, she really _is_ so far gone. He's looking at her now, cocky and proud. _Oh, great._

"And just what are you thinking about, _Detective_?" He's mocking her now. Time to feign nonchalance.

"Oh, not much. Just wondering if I could have a taste."

He holds out the wooden spoon, and she takes it from him, putting the spoon to his lips before replacing it with her mouth. He responds instantaneously, threading one hand into her hair and running another over her naked thigh where his shirt has ridden up her to her rear. She answers his physical advances in eagerness, wrapping her arms around his neck while still clutching the spoon in her grip and lifting her legs up more to caress the dip of his lower back. He backs her up along the countertop, and her head bangs against the cabinet a little uncomfortably, but his hand cushions the force of it, and she couldn't care any less even if it hadn't. He lets out a little groan as she rocks…

"Dad? Why do I smell smoke?" a younger voice calls and then something clatters loudly on the floor.

They break apart with a little smacking noise. Alexis dropped her suitcase. Alexis is here. And they were…are…

"_Oh_," the redhead breathes, turning as scarlet as Kate feels. "Um, sorry for interrupting. I was just, I…hi, Kate."

It's in that moment she remembers that her legs are still hooked around the girl's father and she tries not to choke on her own saliva. _Probably a bit of his too_. Oh God, she has to _stop_.

Poor Alexis. The teen is going to be scarred for life and it's all her fault. She quickly disengages her legs without revealing more than had already been exposed and takes her arms back as well. At least she hadn't dropped the spoon. She plops it back in the forgotten batter as Castle sheepishly removes his wandering hands.

"Hey, Lex." She smiles nervously and gives a timid little wave.

"Morning, Pumpkin," the man at her side greets as well, his voice still a bit rough. "You're, uh, back early."

"Yeah," his daughter's awkwardness seemingly dissipates as she launches into a recount of the morning. It's one fitting of the Castle name; she sure has her father's penchant for the writing trade. "And then we were politely asked to leave."

"He had absolutely no respect for King Lear. _King Lear_, Richard. I was simply putting the boy in his place. Lord knows who reported that I'd been making a scene, which I was most certainly not. It's just as well, though." Martha chooses that instant to come bounding through the door. She's still dressed in a silky, white bathrobe, dragging a rolling valise behind her. She parks the piece of luggage at the edge of the stairs. "What kind of place schedules facials so early in the morning?" She pauses in her own narration of the tale to take in her audience. "Oh, darling, I had no idea we'd be entertaining! Although, I suppose the clothes strewn by the couch should have been enough of an indication."

Kate looks guiltily at her partner, he to she, and then both of them back to the redheads in perfect synchrony. Martha beams slyly at the two before sniffing the air.

"Goodness, Richard. Is something burning?"

Alarms go off in his eyes as he races to find an oven mitt and pops open the door to the stove, releasing a black cloud and the heavy smell of smoke into the air. He lets out a weighty sigh before fanning at the smog with a dishtowel.

"It would appear that I've overcooked the bacon."

"Dad, you'd be lucky to find any bacon left in all that."

"Yeah, well," he turns to give Beckett a barely concealed leer, "I got distracted."

She lets her eyes roll around at his antics. Of all the ridiculous situations she's ever been in, well, this might just take the cake. Then again, maybe not. She's known Castle for years now, and he's gotten them into plenty of predicaments over the long span of time.

"Darling, you should have at least offered the girl a pair of pants. Have I taught you nothing of chivalry in all my years?"

"She was sleeping." He glances at her, and then, his gaze catches on her legs for a moment or two longer than Kate feels comfortable with in front of an audience.

"I'll, uh, go get changed. Think you can manage not to burn anything else when I'm gone?"

The man gives a good-hearted chuckle. "Ridiculous woman, this was clearly your fault." He sweeps a hand over the remnants on the bacon tray, and she feels a little smile crack her serious façade. "Oh, but there are sweats you can borrow in my dresser. Bottom drawer on the right."

Her eyes narrow a little, compulsorily. "I think my pants should suffice."

"Um, no, they won't." At his nervous chortle, her eyebrows spring, and so he continues. "They're not exactly wearable at the moment. But it's okay. I can fix that."

"What on earth are you talking about, Castle?"

"Hey, don't give me that look. You're the one who wears silly slacks with half a dozen buttons. A zipper is _much_ more efficient."

"I_ like _my pants."

He holds his hands up in a plea. "I like them too, really. Believe it or not, Richard Castle does know how to use a needle and thread. And besides, I didn't hear you complaining about it last night. In fact, it was much the opposite."

She lets out an embarrassed, admonishing "Castle!" just as Alexis squeals an equally distraught "_Dad_."

Rick sends his daughter a guilty half-smile. "Sorry, Pumpkin."

Kate takes that as her cue to leave before things get even more awkward and quickly gathers up her blouse on her way back to his bedroom. When she emerges, clad in fresh sweatpants and last night's surprisingly unwrinkled shirt, Castle's setting extra plates and utensils while Alexis sits at the dining table with a Jane Evanovich novel in hand. The morning air is cool, even in the comfort of his loft - perhaps she didn't noticed before because she was occupied in, well, _other _activities - so she opts to layer the button down that she had on before over her thin V-neck. Her partner smiles at the sight of her, and his grin only continues to expand as she nears.

"You look good," he murmurs, leaning back on the marble countertop.

"In your clothes." It's definitely more a statement than a question, and judging by the looking on his face, he knows it too.

"In my clothes."

Castle wraps his arms around her middle and buries his face in her hair, nuzzling the tip of his nose into the dip between her shoulder and her neck affectionately. Her stomach gives a little somersault. It's odd that the embrace doesn't feel, well, _odd_. Sure, they've practically been together longer than she'll ever admit, but their relationship was never a very physical one before now. However, she is a little wary of their not-so-public PDA in front of his daughter.

"_Kate_," he breathes into the nape of her neck, lips brushing over her pulse.

Her breath sticks in her throat. She can't respond. He continues the tender assault on her skin before pulling back slowly.

"Kate," he speaks louder now. His eyes search hers, solemnity replacing the play.

"I know." She can't help but bring a hand up to brush the unruly bed hair from his forehead. Her fingers linger there, right above his eyebrow, thumb extending to smooth over his worry lines. They seem more pronounced now than when they first worked that case together. Did she put them there? But perhaps they're only more distinct at the moment because of the deep intensity of his gaze, stare penetrating the armor she's sheathed her heart in for as long as she can remember. The walls are down now, removed brick by brick over the last four years and finally reduced to rubble after last night, but that doesn't mean she can't keep some of her defenses. She's still the same girl she's always been; she's still Detective Kate Beckett: daughter, cop, partner and reluctant muse. And now she can add _girlfriend_ to the list. The only difference now is that the wall inside has been replaced with a fortress. A Castle. The thought is unbearably cheesy and nauseating, and she gives herself a mental Lanie-smack up the side of her head. He did this to her. And so, with every bit of fervor she possesses in her being…

"I love you too."

It isn't the first time she's said it in the twenty-four hour time span, and she's sure, with his eager prompting, it'll be far from the last; but he still looks at her with a sort of awe and disbelief and absolute adoration, and it thrills and terrifies her in tandem.

Kate hears a muted squeak and turns her head a quarter to the left to see Alexis trying her hardest to look deeply engrossed in her book, but Kate notes the faint blush on her cheeks for giving herself away and the look in her eyes…a look of pride? Contentment? Kate cares about her partner, and Alexis cares about her father. He's equally important to both in different ways, but his happiness is a common desire in the equation.

Her attention turns back to the man himself as he enthusiastically launches himself forward, lips heading on a course to her own, but she tilts her neck and he misses her mouth by centimeters, landing sloppily on her right cheek. He lets out a little sigh of anguish, and it takes all of her reserves to stop the chuckle bubbling inside from surfacing at his childishness.

"Ixnay the issingkay," she mutters as he goes for another attempt, hand on his chest to prevent it.

"In ontfray of the aughterday?" He struggles to bring her hand from his sternum, but she pushes further, causing him to stumble backwards a step.

"You know, Dad, the aughterday can earhay. You're a terrible whisperer."

"Well," he speaks, turning to address said daughter, "Just for that, you're not getting spaceship pancakes. Now, I'll have to go see what your grandmother is up to. Let's just hope I get there in time to stop her from drowning her sorrows in the Serenity's complementary rum."

He gives Beckett's hand a squeeze before exiting as gracefully as a man of his stature can. And now that her fortification - her fortress, her safety net - is gone, it's just her and Alexis.

"So," the redhead breaks the silence, setting her novel aside and leaning forward on her folded hands with a devilish grin.

"How was your trip?" Kate tries the diversion technique, one she learned from living with an overprotective father and a lawyer as a mother, and has perfected after interrogating so many suspects that tried to weasel their ways out of a confession using the same tactic. But Alexis is nobody's fool.

"Nice try, but you're not getting out of this that easily."

She groans. "You've been spending too much time with Lanie. You're starting to sound like her." Oh God, Lanie's going to flip when she find out. And what about the Ryan and Esposito? Without proper warning, Castle and she could likely give the boys matching coronaries. Oh _God_, and the Captain. Victoria "Iron" Gates is always up for strangling Castle with her bare hands, just waiting for the chance. And that's on a good day.

"Earth to Kate? Come in, Kate." Alexis waves her hand in front of the detective's face.

That makes her smile. She takes the seat across from Alexis at the table. "Now you sound like your Dad."

"Mmm…so I've heard. But I never know if I should take that more as a compliment or an insult."

Kate laughs. "Maybe a little bit of both." And then seriously, "But it's definitely more a compliment. Your dad is really…something. But you know that already."

"And you love him for it." The girl's smile is as evident in her voice as it is on her face, and it makes the detective blush in spite of herself.

"And I love him for it."

"You know, Detective Beckett-" Alexis stumbles over her words as Kate looks to correct her. "Sorry… _Kate_. You really…" She tries not to look so surprised when the teen takes her hand between her own palms and gently squeezes it to enforce her words. "You really make my dad _happy_. I mean, it's not that he wasn't happy before you came along; he was always everything I ever needed and more. He's probably told you the whole story. My mom was never really _here_, you know? So even though he was famous and had plenty to do, I always came first in his life. Even when I was awful to him, he's always been here."

"Your dad likes to say that you raised the both of them."

Alexis shakes her head vehemently, crimson hair swinging. "Not true. He might not have been entirely orthodox in his parenting, but he was plenty responsible and even more fun. We did everything together." Kate watches as the teen submerges into the waves of nostalgia.

"You're still the most important person in his life, Alexis. Don't ever think otherwise."

The girl sighs, releasing Beckett's hand as her eyes darken a bit. "I didn't want to bring it up, not now at least. But, Kate, I was so _angry _with you."

She deserves this. She deserves the girl's anger. But it still hurts to hear. The scar from the sniper bullet aches in remembrance. Rick had knocked into her with a force that she hadn't known the man possessed, willing to take the bullet, to _die_ for her, in front of his own _daughter_. Hurt is replaced by fault and then more pain in a matter of seconds. The emotions must be shooting across her face in disturbing rapidity because the teen's own face skews in horror.

"No, no, no. I don't feel that way anymore. Please, Detective…Kate, don't cry. I'm sorry."

Is she crying? The tears are beginning to blur her vision now, but none fall, and she wills them back. _Knock it off. Don't make her pity you. Stop it, Katherine Beckett. No tears today._

"No, Alexis. Don't apologize." She has to swallow past an embarrassingly large lump in her throat before she can keep going. "I…you…you've more than earned the right to be upset with me. I was selfish. I put your dad in danger, and I-"

"No, listen. I was just mad. I was being stupid, really. I asked my dad to stop pretending that he was actually your partner, that he was a cop. I wanted him to stop shadowing you."

Fear reaches out to strangle her. _But he _is_ my partner. In _every _sense of the word_. If Castle ever leaves now, she might just fall apart. But he really isn't hers to keep. "If you want me to talk to him, Alexis…"

"Please don't. I don't feel that way anymore. I mean, yeah, I get frustrated with him sometimes. He thinks that he's invincible. But I was only worried that you were…taking advantage of his feelings back then. Maybe that's not the right way to explain it. I was concerned that you weren't as _invested_ in your partnership as he was. But he told me that you made him happy, and that was enough at the time. And I see now that he makes you happy too. You love him, and _I _love him, and he loves you, so I'll have to suck it up and do the same, right?" She smirks teasingly, and Kate's heart flutters with a whole new emotion.

_Oh, Alexis loves her too._

"Well, she's not inebriated yet, but given another half an hour to herself, she might have been." Castle's voice carries throughout the lower floor of his loft as he descends his stairs. "Mother's freshening up, but she'll be down to grace us with her presence before the food gets cold."

He pops into his office for a long minute, and Kate sits with Alexis in companionable silence until he emerges again with the detective's phone in hand. Rick approaches the table and sets the phone in her waiting hand before halting in front of her.

"What's the matter?"

"Hmm? Nothing."

He frowns at her and turns to Alexis with a suspicious gaze. "Bull. What happened while I was gone?" Then with anxiety-mixed guilt. "What did I do?"

Kate answers instead of his daughter who's looking a little edgy herself. "Really, Castle. Nothing's the matter. And you haven't done anything wrong either. In fact, you've been perfect."

He smiles that smile that melts her insides and grasps her face with both hands, callused and rough from all the years of typing and writing, but gentle as his thumbs brush her cheeks and under her glassy eyes. She doesn't stop him this time as he leans down to press his mouth to hers in a searing kiss, modest enough for having his daughter sitting a few feet away. As they part and he goes back in for a another, Alexis clears her throat politely, and he lets go, standing upright, keeping eye contact.

"No, _you_ are perfect."

The teen pretends to gag. "Really, Dad? You guys are _so_ bad," but she's beaming as she says it.

He ignores the girl's mock insult and goes to get the platters of cooling eggs and home fries. "By the way, Kate, you have five missed calls."

What? Five missed calls? Seriously? "Well, why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

"Don't blame me, missy. Just be glad I noticed. Who's been calling?"

She'll let that condescending moniker slide for now. She has more important things to attend to first. "Esposito three times, then Ryan, all within an hour. Lanie once too. It must be important. Or, allow me to rephrase, it _better_ be important." As if on cue, the phone gives another buzz, buzz, buzz.

"I thought you weren't on call today."

Exactly. She's not. "I'm not. That's just it." She answers the phone, "Espo? This had better be good."

"Hey, Beckett." He sounds nervous. But worse than just that. Something is wrong. "Are you in the middle of something? Lanie and Ryan and I, we all tried to call you and-"

"Just spit it out, Esposito."

One phone call. That's all it takes. One phone call to bring everything crashing down.


	4. Chapter 4

Good morning. I can't wish you all a Happy Castle Monday since our dearly beloved is on a short hiatus, but I can offer you this. The reveal is coming. Soon. Do you have any theories yet? I'd love to hear them. :) The ones I've already seen are great.

Thanks for the support, you guys. Enjoy?

* * *

Anything I love  
And something comes in between  
that I can't get out of my head  
I let it get to me

-Typhoon, _White Liars_

* * *

**Wednesday, April 25, 2012**

She gets the call at 7:47 in the morning, rolls over in her bed to rouse her partner, but he's not there. She looks at the phone. Speak of the devil.

"Castle? Where are you?"

"Kate, hi. Listen, don't freak out, okay? Everything is fine, I promise. No one got hurt."

Oh God, what now? "Castle, you don't just tell a person not to freak out and expect them not to freak out!" She's pulling on her jeans now, racing to grab her keys. "Where are you? Where can I find you?"

"I'm at the loft. But Kate, I have to warn you, there are police cars here. A lot of them."

Her stomach drops. "And I'm just being called now?"

"Have your detail bring you here, okay? Don't try to drive and talk on the phone at the same time." She growls at him in response, but listens, shouting demands at the guard down the hall. Officer Logan, good guy. He holds the door open to the stairwell, and she runs through. "Kate? You still there? I'll explain everything when you get here."

"You better," she mumbles, agonizing in the passenger seat of the squad car. Logan opts to stay behind while his partner, Strider, turns on the siren hits the gas.

They arrive at the loft in record time. She's unbuckled and out the door before the car even fully comes to a stop. She spots him, waiting at the building's entrance, two unmistakable detectives flanking him. Esposito's moving now, leading a group into the apartment complex. Ryan leans dazedly with a hand on Castle's shoulder. She hopes the detective at least realizes that he's still in his pajamas.

"What happened? Alexis? Martha?"

Her partner shakes his head. "Alexis left for school early, around 5:45, with her detail. Student council meeting," he explains. "Mother was with, um, a gentleman caller last night." His nose wrinkles in displeasure. She'd find it amusing if she wasn't currently in panic mode.

"Why weren't you in bed?"

Ryan's head perks up at that, and she groans internally. She could've phrased that better. Oh well. It's too late now. Her team member's eyes dance in smugness. _Oh, shut up, Ryan. Like you didn't know_.

"I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep, so I came home to freshen up a little, grab a change of clothes. I didn't notice anything was amiss until I went into my office…"

She snags his t-shirt in her fist, tugs him closer. "What? What happened in your office?" When he doesn't answer right away, she drags him through the front door and to the elevator. The Irish detective trails behind.

"Just hop out of bed, Kev?"

He glares at her. "Jenny made me stay up late last night to watch Dancing with the Stars on our DVR. And the results show."

This elicits a chuckle from her partner. "Leave your filter home with your clothes, huh, buddy?"

"Oh, har har. Very funny." He looks down for a moment. "Beckett has on two different slippers. You're not making fun of her."

Kate looks down at her feet. Shit, she does. One blue, one pink. She feels Castle stifle a laugh behind her, and elbows him in the gut. Hard. He's moaning in pain as they exit the box and all the way down the hall to his loft. She halts before going in, though, hand on his chest.

"Tell me what I'm going to find in here."

"You're not going to like it."

She rolls her eyes. _Well, obviously_. Her curiosity gets the better of her before she can wait for him to answer. She moves through the sea of officers in the loft, nearing his office door, stops dead in her tracks at what she sees.

"It's just the office. Well, my bedroom too, a little bit. But just a few shelves knocked over. No serious damage."

Papers are scattered on the floor, files strewn everywhere. There's a giant, gaping hole in his makeshift murder board where someone put a hammer through. Maybe a bat or a crowbar. His desk is completely flipped over, splintered down the middle. Books are ripped off shelves.

"They moved fast, I think. Sacked the place in less than an hour. Probably waited for the guards to leave with Alexis and then took the opportunity-"

She turns to him, interrupting, "You should have stayed with her last night, not me. I told you not to stay with me."

"She insisted. Besides, my private detail was here. The crazy amount of money I'm paying them should assure you that I trust them explicitly. You should have let me put them on you too."

"I already think we're wasting enough resources as it is." He's keeping it light and she's trying to follow his lead because she's _this_ close to a panic attack. She knows he can tell.

"Beckett, it's okay."

"They were in here, Rick. They were in your house. Alexis could have been here. You could have been here."

"But we weren't."

"But you both could have been. Or you could've come up while they were still here." Her breaths are labored. "God, they would've killed you, Castle. They wouldn't have hesitated for a second. Don't you understand?"

Esposito comes up then, bad news written all over his face. "The team did a sweep. Found a bug in the outlet." States the obvious, "Someone's been listening in."

Anger swells inside her. "Fuck."

They stay there as the investigative team dusts for fingerprints and takes pictures for evidence. Her partner tries to start up a pot of coffee, but she slaps his hand, and he drops the bag of beans on the counter.

"Someone just broke into your house. You're going to drink something that's been sitting out?"

"What, you think they ransacked my office for information and stole my laptop, and then they decided to poison my coffee beans in their spare time?" She glowers at him, and he apologizes immediately. "Sorry, sorry. No eating or drinking food at the crime scene. Right. At least I had most of Frozen Heat backed up on Black Pawn's server. And, hey, my apartment is a crime scene. With crime scene tape and everything. How cool is that?"

She shakes her head violently. "Not cool, Castle. Not cool at all."

She's fuming. So, so pissed. Keeping the fury all bottled up in front of her coworkers is killing her inside. The men who did this…they want to hurt her loved ones. They want to get to her. And it's working, damn it. All she can see is red. All she can feel is this white-hot anger coursing through her veins. She needs to release it. She needs to get rid of it before it corrodes away at her insides like acid.

She grabs Castle's hand suddenly, jerks him forward, doesn't care who sees, and doesn't stop until they're in the car and then in her apartment. She's crowding him into her bedroom, and he's stumbling in confusion, tipping backwards onto the mattress, and she follows him on his way down.

"Kate? What are you doing?"

She straddles his waist, rips open his shirt, buttons scattering like her hope in this world of fear. "What do you think?"

He catches up quickly. "Right, right. Okay. Kate?"

"What?" she grinds out as her hands move over his hips, loosening his belt, and her teeth bite down on his clavicle, causing him to yelp in surprise and probably a bit of pain. She doesn't care too much right now. Can't. She needs this. Needs him. Right now.

"I love you."

"Castle."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

* * *

They lie panting next to each other. She's still half-clothed, pants puddled at the foot of the bed, shirt unbuttoned to her navel, but still clinging on. Suddenly, he's laughing. All she can manage is a sheepish groan.

"That was hot. But geez, you're violent."

"Mmm," she sighs into the crook of his elbow, "You're just a big baby."

He turns his head slightly, looking over his shoulder. "The nail marks on my back would disagree."

She checks out his back, and he's right. Three raw tracks on his left shoulder and a map of crescent moons where his neck flares into his trapezius. "I got you pretty good, didn't I?"

"You did. I feel so violated." A chuckle escapes from her at his pouty lips. Maybe, maybe they can get through this. "Remind me to make you angry less often. Well, actually, perhaps more often."

"Remind me to trim my nails next time. But then again, you sound so conflicted."

"Well, you know. Big Castle says no, but Little Castle says yes."

"Little Castle?"

He peeks under the sheets. "He can be pretty persuasive." And then, on a more serious note, "Feeling better?"

"A little." She trails her fingertips over his chest, goose bumps rising along her path. "You always make me feel better."

He touches a finger to her jaw line, turns her head back and forth as if searching for something, runs his hand down her spine, under her shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for the zipper, or is it invisible? This synthetic skin is really incredible."

"Oh, very clever. I'm trying to be serious here. You really do make things better, Rick. I don't tell you often enough. But just this, just being here. It helps."

"Thank you." He gives her a long kiss that curls her toes, breaks away with a smile. "You'd make a hot alien. But then, of course, I'd have torture you and get you to reveal the location of the real Kate Beckett."

"Of course." Yes, this is what she needs. Normalcy and teasing and Castle. "Then what?"

"Well, I'd kill the imposter."

The words are meant to be silly, just like the rest of the conversation, but he says them with such conviction. And it's at that moment that she realizes that, yes, he'd die for her. But he'd also kill for her. It's a terrifying thought.

"Oh." She hates this. She hates it. She's damaged goods, and she's ruining him too, destroying his innocence little by little. Sure, he writes murder mystery novels. But that's fiction. And this is very much reality. "Did you tell Alexis yet? About the break in."

"No. That's a conversation to have in person, I think, on the way to a hotel. She only has two and a half more weeks of school, and she already took her final. I think I'll send her with my mother to the Hamptons if this doesn't…cool down at all in the next week. If she'll go, that is. It'll be safer that way."

"You should go with them."

He sighs. "No. My place is here with you right now. Partners."

"I'd offer…I'd suggest that you guys stay here, but a hotel suite is probably safer since I'm a target, and I don't have a lot of space…"

"Don't worry about it, Kate. Really. In fact, maybe you should just come stay with us. But who knows. Maybe the team at the loft will give the all clear and let us just go back with some extra security. Or maybe Alexis will have a friend that she wants to stay with instead. I can just send the detail there, and stay here with you."

"You don't think Alexis would mind?"

"She would understand, I think. But she...she gets worried about me sometimes."

"I know." She nods. "We talked about you. Monday, at breakfast."

"That's what got you so upset? I can talk to her if you want-"

"No, no, no. No need. Your daughter is wonderful, Castle. She wasn't trying to do anything to…and even if she was, I would have deserved every bit of it. We, uh, had a heart-to-heart. Laid all the cards on the table. It was good. It was right."

He looks at her skeptically, but concedes, let's the subject drop.

"Castle."

"Yeah?"

This is a bad idea, a very, very bad idea. But she can't help herself. "I think you should contact him."

She doesn't have to say who. Anger flares in his eyes. "What? No. You can't be serious."

"It's not like we have a lot of options here, Rick."

"No. Absolutely not. We talked about this, Kate. I told you-"

She sits up, feeling suddenly naked and exposed in more ways than one. "But this might be the only way! We have to know, so that we can prepare, plan our defensive. Somebody ransacked your house today, Castle. They're capable of anything. Next time you might not be so lucky."

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare act like that's what you'll do when you know. Defensive, my ass. All you're concerned about is our offense, and someday it might just cost you your life. Maybe...maybe it already has."

How could he? How could he say something like that? She roots around her bedroom, collecting up his clothes and dropping them on his lap. "Get out, Castle."

"God, Beckett. I'm trying to help you. And I, I didn't mean that. You're alive, Kate, and you're beautiful. Can't that just be enough? I just can't do what you're asking. I won't."

She isn't going to let him see her cry, let him offer her comfort. She isn't going to forgive him. "Leave. Now. Don't make me say it again." He crosses his arms, won't budge, so she shoves at his shoulder and he all but topples out of her bed. "Get out, Rick! Please, just get _out_."

He stares at her, stunned, leaning against her wall. But then he slips on his boxers, his jeans, and his shirt, doesn't bother with the jacket before he heads for the door. Oh no, he'll never forgive her. What has she done?

"Sometimes," he murmurs into the frame of her door. "Sometimes you're a hard woman to be in love with, Kate Beckett."

And then, he's gone.

And then, she's desperate and digging through her drawer, looking for a number. It's her last resort. It's her final option.

She knows what they say about making decisions out of desperation.


	5. Chapter 5

I'd like to unofficially call this chapter The Big Reveal: Part 1. Slightly ironic because, well, this installment is actually quite small. But don't let that deter you. It's big in content. Stay with me here. We're over half way there. Not much longer now.

**Disclaimer**: Let's not get carried away.

* * *

I got out of bed today, Swear to God I couldn't see my face  
I got out of bed today staring at a ghost

-Wintersleep, _Weighty Ghost_

* * *

**Tuesday, April 24, 2012**

She tries to hang on to him like a lifesaver, to stay afloat, but it's hard. _God_, it's hard.

"Our victim's name," the detective starts, with a glance in her direction, "is Joe Pulgatti. He was shot and killed in his apartment yesterday at approximately 5:35 am." Esposito's heading this one, giving the official rundown to the homicide department in front of the murder board while she stands idly by. She's embarrassed, almost, that they have to take over for her. But she can't handle...not now. Not while everything has been going so well. Not after she tried to put everything behind her for him. For them.

Ryan tacks another picture to the whiteboard. "Our witness is Gill Mahoney, Pulgatti's parole officer. He came in right as the shot was fired."

"He was also attacked by the hit man," Esposito adds, "but managed to come away with minor damage, just a few fractured ribs. He described our killer as an African American male. Six-foot-five, roughly two hundred and fifty pounds."

"Big guy. Armed with a .380 caliber weapon. Bullets match a 9mm, most likely a Beretta 84, according to the lab results." The Irish detective pins up the pictures from ballistics. "No silencer was used."

"That means this guy _wanted_ to get our attention, and now, he's got it."

Esposito keeps talking, but she has no desire to listen. She doesn't have to; the boys gave her all the details yesterday afternoon along with some sympathetic words and pitiful looks. She turns her head, face pressing into the corduroy of her partner's jacket, breathes in heavily. He smells of soap and fabric softener and a scent that belongs exclusively to him, and she wishes it was enough to comfort her.

But it's not.

Gates backs up the assembly of cops from her position in the doorway of her office. She can feel the captain's gaze on her, penetrating. She's not happy, but that's nothing new. Victoria "Iron" Gates is never happy.

Kate feels worse today, somehow. Impossibly worse. Yesterday, there was mostly shock accompanied by the expected, crushing sorrow. Of all times for this to happen. Oh, when everything was going _so_ well.

But waking up this morning, alone…she feels like a shadow of herself. An apparition, just sort of floating around in a shell that resembles her life. How could she go from feeling so full to so small? And in such a short time.

She didn't let Castle take her home last night and didn't let him come over either, but she didn't call off the protective detail at her apartment; she promised she wouldn't. He didn't push. Of course, he wouldn't. He backed off. He's frightened of her, she thinks. She wishes it didn't have to be this way.

She knows, from various therapy sessions over the years, that this is just stage one in the grieving process. Denial and isolation. Then again.

Rick's hand presses into her lower back. She lets him rub circles over her spine with his thumb, doesn't discourage it. Perhaps this isn't isolation at all. Maybe it's depression, stage four.

Damn it, she's a mess. She can't even grieve right.

Detectives start to disperse from the area, and he grabs her hand, leads her into the empty break room and shuts the door behind them. The blinds are already closed. Privacy is good.

"Kate," he hesitates. "It would just be stupid to ask if you're okay because we both know that you're not."

She nods in agreement. But if he had asked her, she probably wouldn't have admitted it.

"I know I keep telling you not to run headfirst into danger. I know we decided that neither of us should continue investigating, but that doesn't mean…the case came back, Kate. Even though we both agreed, it still came after us. It wasn't in our control. So, just, I don't want you to feel like you have to shut down." He's in her head, like always. It shouldn't surprise her. It doesn't. "You can get angry without being reckless."

But can she? "You know what this case does to me, Castle. I'm not proud of what it makes me become. And now there's," she motions between them, "_this_ on the line. Not that our partnership wasn't important before. But now that we're here, I just can't mess things up. I won't."

"You won't."

"There's too much on the line. And I'm selfish."

"You deserve to be selfish. You do, but you're not. In fact, you are so very, very selfless." He squeezes her fingers, still hasn't let go. "Don't fade away because of me, because you want to protect me."

"No, that's not it." If only it were that simple. "Our timing is the worst, but maybe that's not it either. Maybe I'm just not meant to be happy."

"Oh, Kate."

"Stop it, please. Stop indulging this, this pity party."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"I know. I know you weren't trying to do anything. I'm really the one who needs to stop. I just feel like I'll never be able to escape this burden, Castle." Oh, great. She's crying now. "I keep struggling to move on, but it never ends. And I'm tired of it. And I want it to be over. All of it. Everything." Oh, yes, definitely depression.

"_Shush_." He pressures her lips closed with the pad of his forefinger. "Don't you dare say things like that. We will get through this. And if you won't be selfish then, hell, I'll be selfish enough for the both of us. I _will_ _not_ lose you to this, Kate Beckett. Do you hear me?"

A tear flows down the side of her nose, over the ridge of her upper lip, and then along his finger. She kisses it on a whimper, licks away the salt.

"I hear you." He hauls her into his chest, and she steals the warmth of his embrace greedily. "I hear you."

* * *

You guys up for The (unofficial) Big Reveal: Part 2? Let me know by clicking the button down there. The one that says 'Review this Chapter.' Yes, that's the one.


	6. Chapter 6

All right, you guys. Here it is. The (unofficial) Big Reveal: Part 2. Just like its predecessor, this one is short in length but somewhat large in content. I wanted to post it much earlier, but I was away from late Wednesday to Monday night and unfortunately was unable to locate a WiFi signal (yes, it was torturous, but I made it home in time for Castle, miracle of miracles). Better late than never though, right? The seventh and final chapter should also be posted sometime this week. Before the finale airs. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed! Speaking of, how excited are you guys for Always? I can't even. No words can accurately express. Just a lot of squealing and flailing. Stop me now before I embarrass myself.

On a seperate note, I'm putting some ideas together for a short sequel to this story. If you're all game, that is. There are still some loose ends that I feel obligated to tie up. Of course, open endings have their appeal too. I've already talked to some who were all for it, but let me know.

I just want to take up a little more room to thank you all again for the reviews, alerts, and support. It really means a lot. :)

Without further ado, I give you chapter six. Enjoy.

* * *

Seven devils all around you  
Seven devils in my house  
See they were there when I woke up this morning  
I'll be dead before the day is done

Seven devils all around you  
Seven devils in your house  
See I was dead when I woke up this morning,  
And I'll be dead before the day is done

-Florence + The Machine, _Seven Devils_

* * *

**Friday, April 27, 2012**

"Hey," he kicks her chair, disturbs her from her deep concentration. She lifts up her eyes to his face, and he's doing it again. He's been doing it all day. Looking at her like that.

"Sorry, Castle. Did you say something? I wasn't paying attention." She's been lost in thought and anxiety all morning. It's hard to even pretend to acknowledge what's going on around her. And the case files in her hands, well, they don't seem all that important either. Not anymore.

"No, no. It's just…you seem, I don't know, different today."

"Different." Her tongue feels like lead in her mouth. She doesn't want to lie to him any longer. _Please, Castle, don't make me lie to you anymore. Just let it go. Don't make me tell another lie._

He regards her for a moment and then switches his tactic. "How was your meeting last night?"

Oh, _even better_. "Fine, Castle. It was fine. Say, Ryan and Esposito were digging around in records all morning. Do you want to go ask them to share whatever their whispering about over there?"

He forces a smile and stands up with an agreeable nod, but his eyes betray his hurt. She doesn't want that. No, not ever. But it's the only way. It'll keep him safe. She just has to remember that. Just remember, he'll be safe.

But there's one more thing she has to do before-

"Hey, Kate, I'm going to go grab lunch. What do you feel like having?"

This is it. This is her opening. She stands up, pushes in her chair, and grabs his hand. "I'll come with you."

He's speechless, opening his mouth up only to close it again. Open and shut, open and shut. Finally, his fingers tighten around hers, and he leads them to the elevator, passing the boys who are gawking at her like she has two heads. It's okay, though. _Let them stare._

It's a short walk, and they're about to head into Mr. K's, when she gives her partner a tug backwards and pulls him over to a concrete bench. He trips over his own feet along the way, almost pulling them both to the ground, but her hold stays firm, keeps them both upright.

"Sit," she commands, and he does, but not without a questioning look. "We're talking. I promised, and we're talking."

"Right now? Right here?"

"Here and now, Rick. No time like the present." Because they might not have much time to do this in the future. "Listen, I think that, if this trail grows even colder by the end of next week, I think that I'll stop. At least until they make their next move."

"Really?" Castle squeaks with disbelief. "Why?"

What kind of question is that? Shouldn't he be happy? "Because you wanted me to. Wasn't that the agreement? We've been at an impasse, but you were right, Castle. I'm running myself ragged, and it's taking a toll on you too. I don't want that, and I want people going after you and your family even less." Maybe this is just worse. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe doling out this hope is just going to serve to crush him further.

"Too easy. What's the catch?" He sees right through her. What else is new?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're going to give it up, just like that. Because I asked you to? Nothing's that easy, Kate."

"Just say you'll be there, Rick. When I get to that point, that place, I want you to be there." It's not a lie, but it's so much omission. It's selfish of her to ask that of him. Just awful. But he nods at her, drops his head to kiss her knuckles in a promise, a physical contract.

"Always."

* * *

When they leave the precinct, when she kisses him goodnight and tells him to go home to get some rest, she hopes it doesn't feel too much like a goodbye.

* * *

_He'll have Alexis_, she tells herself. _He'll have his mother_. This isn't going to kill him.

This isn't going to kill him.

This isn't going to kill him.

She repeats the mantra over and over that night as she gets ready. As she packs away a small duffle of items, just necessities, just clothing and small toiletries. That's all she'll need. And one more thing. A book. His book. _Heat Wave_. Yes, she'll take a little piece of him too, a piece of them. She'll hold onto that.

This isn't going to kill him.

Her phone trembles in her pocket, and she knows that it's time. She turns off the lights and shuts the front door, pockets the key.

This isn't going to kill him, but it _will _kill her.

She can only hope that he'll forgive her when she comes back to life.

* * *

Thanks for sticking around. One more to go.


	7. Chapter 7

Gosh, I was doing so well. What happened?

Yes, here it is. This is the final chapter. But the story continues, or rather, it will continue in an upcoming sequel. When that will be published, I can't be certain. I'd definitely like to get some more writing done before I do. But I'm excited to continue this plot, and I have high hopes that any and all lingering questions you guys still have will be answered in the sequel.

I would like to extend my apologies for this long wait, especially to PauliPorcupine (for the Monday update that never came). Unfortunately, my laptop—where I'd written this chapter initially—is now inoperable. Because of that, I had to rewrite this chapter from scratch, and as a result, it's a little shorter than I'd originally desired. And obviously, this story has now entered AU territory. That's my fault for not updating sooner (before my laptop met its untimely fate).

Once again, thank you all for the continued support. And without further ado…

* * *

Nothing lasts forever, that's the way it's got to be  
There's a great black wave in the middle of the sea

-Arcade Fire, _Black Wave/Bad Vibrations_

* * *

**Sunday, April 22, 2012**

It's just any other day, but somehow, everything has changed. It's been building for a while now. They had a bit of a speed bump, a falling out. Secrets were exposed, but they made it through with minimal damage. And so here they are, standing in the doorway of the loft after wrapping yet another case. And suddenly.

They fly to each other, lips and teeth and tongues, hands trailing up his spine, glancing his shoulders. His rough fingers reach to cup her face. It's explosive. God, it's incredible. And all he can feel is her, and all he can think is _Kate, Kate, Kate. Kate's here. She's here, and this is happening. It's really happening._

When the kisses slow and she pulls back with a smile, he can barely believe it. She takes his hand and tugs, and his feet move on their own accord. At the threshold of his bedroom, he freezes. It's all too much. Oh, but not enough.

She looks up at him, both pleased and hesitant. "Follow me?"

Yes, yes. Follow. Right. He pushes into her suddenly, and she stumbles backwards, lands on his bed with a breathy chuckle. He's braced on his arms, hovering above her in the blink of an eye, not wasting any time to resent his overeager clumsiness. She looks surprised for a moment, but shrugs it off quickly. Then, her teeth are on his earlobe, and she sucks, and he nearly collapses right there.

Oh, yes. Yes, he'd follow her anywhere.

* * *

His nose brushes over a jagged edge. It's a scar, dark and puckered, looming right over her breasts. There's no question as to where it came from. He lifts up on his elbows and brushes a thumb over the healing skin. Her fingers thread with his, dragging the hand away.

When he looks up at her face, she doesn't look embarrassed or ashamed, not really, but she doesn't let him linger there, so he presses a kiss to the fading wound and sinks down lower, mapping the length of her. He circles his tongue around her bellybutton, and she lets out an extraordinary moan that lights his blood on fire.

Suddenly, there's nothing between them. It's all naked skin, flesh on flesh. And Jesus, he'd always hoped this day would come—and back in the beginning when he was still so egocentric and arrogant he told himself it was unavoidable—but now that he's here? He can hardly grasp it, wrap his mind around it. So instinct takes over. He pushes, closer, closer, looks up to her, and her hooded eyes give him all the permission and encouragement he needs.

* * *

Her fingers dig into his scalp, pressing him nearer as he latches to her collarbone, drinks her in at her pulse. She's as aggressive as ever, but lets him lead for once. He sets the pace. He wants to take his time. And until her hips begin to jolt spastically beneath him, he keeps that control just fine.

Still, he doesn't go that final distance until she pleads, until it's just too much for him to handle. For either of them to handle. And then.

* * *

His vision is spotty at best. His senses are overwhelmed, but he doesn't want to close his eyes. He wills them open. He wants to watch her. He needs to see her. To believe.

_Kate._

* * *

"_Castle!"_

* * *

She's staring at him when he comes to awareness. Has it been a few seconds? A minute? An hour? Oh, he practically passed out on top of her. How embarrassing is that? But she doesn't look annoyed, not at all. Her expression is so open, so tender, and so knowing. Like she has all the answers. Like she's finally placed the last piece of the puzzle.

"I love you, Castle."

He bows his head into her chest, can't help the hissing, wondrous sob that escapes. And when he raises his neck, he can see that she's crying now too.

"Tell me again," she encourages, "I'm not going anywhere this time, Rick. Tell me again."

He will. Oh, he will. If only he can catch his breath. "Kate, I love you."

"_Mmm_, good," she sighs. "Good." And then, she catches him off guard, lifting a leg over his hip and using it as leverage to flip them both over.

"Beckett?"

She smiles and places a kiss on his broad chest, right over his heart. "Now, _show _me again_._"

* * *

When he wakes for the second time, she's curled into his side, breathing into the crook of his neck, one leg thrown over his thigh and an arm hooked around his middle. She looks gentler—more serene—than he's ever seen her. She's got him captivated, even in slumber, in the way her lips fall open and the way her eyes dance behind their lids. Dreaming. Good dreams, he hopes, and when she lets out a contented sigh and wraps her arm even tighter, he knows.

Hmmm. Kate Beckett, a snuggler. Who would have thought?

Castle's hand threads into her hair, still a little damp underneath and curling out in all directions, and running his fingers through it is doing nothing to help the situation. Oh, she'll be pissed when she wakes up and can't run a comb through her tangled mane, but it'll still be worth it. Ruffled Beckett is a sight to behold.

He brushes a kiss along her temple, and as he holds her there in his bed, he can think that finally, _finally _he's exactly where he's always wanted to be. With Kate. Partners in all senses of the word. And now that he's got her, all forces be damned…

He'll never let her go.

* * *

So there it is. I hope you've enjoyed this adventure. But the story's not over, not just yet. So leave a review and stay tuned for the sequel?


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